


To Be A Queen

by BuddingAuthor



Category: 16th Century CE RPF, Six - Marlow/Moss, The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Gen, Historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddingAuthor/pseuds/BuddingAuthor
Summary: Anne Boleyn finds herself watching a new young woman in Henry’s court with extraordinary tenderness. Historical-verse.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	To Be A Queen

Anne had been watching the new girl, thoughtfully and for quite some time, with a tenderness that surprised even her. Her companions gave her some flack for it, of course - some in jest, some less so - noting with undeniable accuracy that she was being remarkably gentle with this one where she had displayed apathy or even hostility to the others. But Anne brushed them off, made excuses and, when they didn’t listen, shut them out; say what they might, but this young woman had Anne’s goodwill.

Anne watched as the new young woman reveled in the majesty of the court. She was obviously overcome by the opulence that surrounded her, and she made no move to stop the shower of gifts that was thrust upon her. It earned her disapproving murmurs from some ( _she’s let it go to her head_ , they clucked) , but it made Anne laugh; her own upbringing in the royal court of France had instilled in her a deep ambivalence towards piles of jewels, and it was nice to see somebody surprised and delighted by such little treasures. Anne never tired of watching the new girl’s astonishment, and the new girl complied: day after day after day she laughed at the clothes she had, draped jewels over her neck, giggled at the abundance of food, ran her hands openmouthed over the bejeweled walls of Anne’s chambers and her own. So many moments of joy for Anne to adore.

Anne saw other moments, too - how could she not, with this girl in the same court as Henry? - but they were few and far between enough to ignore, at least for now. Anne watched as the girl flinched whenever Henry called her name, watched her take a deep breath before answering any summons; but Anne had felt that way too, herself, when she first arrived herself, and _she_ , after all, was a Queen.

And so it was easy enough to be happy, to watch this new little one (so  _ very  _ young) and let it bring her joy, to be swept up by the sound of the girl’s laughter and ignore the distant warning thunder.

And then all of a sudden it was far too late to turn a blind eye.

Anne was shocked by the speed of the collapse. Her companions were a bit surprised - the rumors, after all, had been there, just as malicious, for years. And shouldn’t Anne, of all people, know just how rapidly the tide of royal favor could turn? But even  _ she  _ was surprised by how quickly a rumor became a secret, a secret became a weapon, a weapon became an attack, an attack became a revelation became an investigation became an arrest became a trial became an imprisonment became a death sentence.

And for the first time Anne watched, without an excuse to turn away or a reason that this anguish didn’t really count, as the girl was manhandled, kicking and screaming, into the river barge. Anne watched as the young woman was led into the Tower, trembling, crying, and felt a deep compassion stir within her, a deep sense of kinship (a  _ familial  _ bond, almost), tempered by the bitterness of knowing that this child’s ending would be just as tragic as Anne’s own.

She watched the young woman struggle through her last night of life, watched as the blanket of night draped over the Tower was pulled back to reveal the grayness of the dawn, then the blue of morning, as the clocks ticked towards seven and the girl was led to her death. She watched the young woman be helped up the scaffold, so weak she could barely walk, and listened to her oh-so-faint voice recite the speech she had been sworn to give, a speech Anne knew only too well: sing Henry’s praises, call his justice legitimate, do not betray your fear.

Anne watched the woman kneel, nuzzling her neck into the divet of the block; watched her hands quake and her breath hitch; watched the axe rise and fall -

And in that moment, as the blade skidded across the sheen of blood, the girl unfolded herself, stood up, and locked eyes with Anne. And despite the terror in the girl’s eyes and the jagged scar snaking its way around her neck, Anne couldn’t help the love that blossomed in her chest or the joy that she felt blooming across her face.

“Katherine, my darling. How lovely it is to see you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leaving a comment will win you my everlasting love and gratitude. Even if it’s just a few words, knowing that people are reading and responding to my work brings me incredible joy and a desire to keep writing.
> 
> Happiest of new years, everybody. May your 2021s be joyful and healthful.


End file.
